


the type you call more than a friend

by fangirl_squee



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: M/M, Missing Scene, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-28
Updated: 2017-02-28
Packaged: 2018-09-27 11:15:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10017341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirl_squee/pseuds/fangirl_squee
Summary: Today's the day.And then, it's not.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is Sad and I am sorry (well, sorryish), title from ‘your type’ by crj, which unironically and for real makes me think of unrequited lem/fero every time I listen to it.
> 
> Not technically cowritten with maddie, but based very heavily on our dms directly after this episode, bc maddie is a very good friend who will indulge me in lem/fero things even when Very Nice lem/emmanuel things happen.
> 
> Also: thanks to maddie, for betaing.
> 
> Also, spoilers for the most recent episode.

Fero walked faster as he headed towards the Likely Striker. As he walked past a mirrored shopfront he paused and went back a few paces, smoothing down his hair nervously, making a face at himself as he tried to tuck his shirt back in neatly.

 

Okay.

 

Okay okay okay okay. 

 

Today was the day. 

 

Now was the time. 

 

Circumstances were … maybe not  _ perfect _ , given they were in the middle of a murder investigation in his home town, but you had to work with the hand you were given. 

 

After all, Lem had met his family and he’d liked them (and, astonishingly, they’d liked him - or, at least the worthwhile ones had liked him), and they were about to have a nice meal together, so. Probably as close enough to ideal circumstances as he was likely to get.

 

He took a deep breath as the cafe came into view, trying to calm his nerves. They would have a nice group meal (well, again, as nice as you could while you discussed a murder investigation). Then when they were dividing up groups for the next stage of the investigation, he’d ask to speak to Lem, and they’d go to the booth in the corner of the cafe, the one next to the big fern that had a bit more privacy than the rest, and he’d just... tell him. He’d just open his mouth and then all his dumb feelings out and then….

 

And then it would be up to Lem. No point in trying to get ahead of himself. Not like he had a  _ really _ great idea for a first date place, out on the beach where the developers hadn’t quite managed to get to yet, with old trees overhead and the sand stark white in the moonlight. Not that he’d been thinking of what it would be like to be there with Lem at all since they had arrived back in Rosemerrow. 

 

He took another deep breath as he reached the cafe’s glass doors, tamping down on the jittery, squirming feeling in the pit of his stomach. He could see the others already there, seated around the table, everyone except for Lem who was…. Oh.

 

Lem was leaning on the counter, smiling - Fero’s eye was always drawn to Lem when he was smiling, like the sun on a cloudy day. On the other side, in defiance of all reasonable expectations Fero might have had, and leaning towards Lem with a matching smile was Emmanuel. 

 

Lem and Emmanuel both looked  _ delighted _ . Emmanuel’s hands fluttered as he talked, and Lem laughed. When Emmanuel’s hands settled on the counter between them, they were almost brushing Lem’s hands. Lem was blushing.

 

There was a strange buzzing in Fero’s ears and it suddenly felt hard to breath, like someone was squeezing his chest. He stepped back from the door, quickly walking around the corner and ducking into an alleyway. He leant his back against the cold brick, looking up at the dark sky. His eyes stung, and he squeezed them shut.

 

Seeing them together was worse than the first time. At least back in Nacre when he’d seen them together he’d been able to take it as a stepping stone of information: that the Archivists  _ weren’t _ like monks after all, that maybe next time he’d be a little quicker than a hypothetical handsome pirate.

 

Fero ran a hand through his hair. Not quick enough, apparently. 

 

He stayed in the alleyway for a while, working on getting his breathing under control. It felt harder than it should have to pull air into his lungs. Every time the image of Lem and Emmanuel at the counter floated to the front of his mind it only felt harder.

 

Still. He couldn’t stay in the alleyway forever. No matter how inviting that thought sounded at the present.

 

The bell over the door tinkled as he walked in, but Lem and Emmanuel didn’t even look up.

 

“Hey everybody!” said Fero cheerfully, “So how’s everyone’s investigation going?”

 

He took the empty seat next to Hella that conveniently faced away from the counter.

 

Hella nudged him in the ribs as he sat down. “You're late! We already ordered."

 

Fero forced a wide grin. “That's me, Fero Feritas: always late."

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi on tumblr @ mariusperkins


End file.
